


A different form of freedom

by Lysore



Series: The Choices of Beatrice Prior [3]
Category: Divergent - All Media Types, Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: Choosing Ceremony, Gen, Tris' PoV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 01:49:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13203141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lysore/pseuds/Lysore
Summary: Tris yearns for freedom, but Dauntless is a military Faction at its core.





	A different form of freedom

**Author's Note:**

> The original works are not mine, never were, never will be. This is done purely for my own enjoyment, and yours too, should you happen to like what will follow. More specifically: some passages have been taken/paraphrased directly from the book. Those passages are obviously even less mine.  
> On the other hand, since there is no beta, I can lay claim to all the mistakes present in the text !

I don’t understand the Test. I really tried to but, for the life of me, I can’t understand it at all. The bus takes a sharp turn to the left so I tighten my fingers around the handle and plunge back to my thoughts. The Test is supposed to be an elimination thing, I get it. Tori explained that part well. But it is such a strange thing. First, it asks people to choose between two options without saying why. Then, we are supposed to discover that either you give the dog the cheese or you cut it in pieces with the knife? What is Erudite playing at? People who like cheese are friendly while people who take the knife are brave? What sort of nonsense is that? And just where could people have proven they can tell the truth during this? Candor tell the dog something true and it calms it?

I scoff, earning myself a curious glance from my mother. People are not that simple. Did Erudite forget we are all capable of thought? And this Test is frankly reductive. That settles it. Erudite is definitely not an option. To think they are considered to be the cleverest of us all. This is ridiculous.

I card a hand through my hair, disturbing my bun. Sometimes, I believe I could transfer if only to be able to stop having to tie my hair up all the time. But back to the Test: since it’s so simple, perhaps Divergence is not that uncommon. Maybe I should trust my own judgment more. It’s my choice now anyway and I don’t have any other option left.

I take a few deep breaths to calm down and step off the bus after my parents and my brother. My mother has been eyeing me frequently during the ride there. I know am worrying her with these uncertainties I cannot manage to conceal.

I do not have a lot of time left to decide. The Choosing Ceremony will start soon. As we enter the amphitheatre, I wonder if it is one of the last times I see my parents. Will I become a transfer? Will I become a traitor to my family, to Abnegation? But why should transferring be a betrayal? Aren’t we supposed to transfer if our place is not in our birth Faction? How could finding my place in the world be considered treason when that is the only way the Faction system can thrive?

Before my parents sit down on their side of the room, with the other adult members, they come to a stop in front of Caleb and me. My father kisses my forehead and claps Caleb on the shoulder, grinning.

“See you soon,” he says without a trace of doubt. I understand his lack of doubt regarding Caleb but how can he be so sure I will come back too?

My mother hugs me, and I relish in this rare display of physical affection. She holds me for what feels like a long time, even after I let my hands fall. Before she pulls away, she turns her head and whispers in my ear, “I love you. No matter what.”

I stare at her back as she walks away. She knows what I might do. She wouldn’t have felt the need to say that otherwise. It’s as if she is giving me her blessing. In her own way, she is echoing Caleb. Yesterday, he advised me to think of myself while choosing. Now that I know both of them are supporting me, I am determined to make the choice that will fit me the most.

Once everyone is seated, Marcus climbs on the podium at the centre of the room. “Welcome to the Choosing Ceremony. Welcome to the day we honour the democratic philosophy of our ancestors, which tells us that every man has the right to choose his own way in this world.” Marcus solemnly begins his opening speech and Caleb takes one of my hands in his. I hadn’t realized it before, but he seems to be as anxious as me at the idea of making his choice. Could he have second thoughts about his choice? I never saw him as anything but my perfect Abnegation brother but yesterday, he seemed shaken after the test.

“Our dependents are now sixteen. They stand on the precipice of adulthood, and it is now up to them to decide what kind of people they will be. Decades ago our ancestors realized that it is not political ideology, religious belief, race, or nationalism that is to blame for a warring world but rather humankind’s natural inclination toward evil, in whatever form that is. To counteract this, they divided us into five Factions which all strive to eradicate a particular defect that was once responsible for the world’s disarray.”

I squeeze Caleb’s fingers as hard as he is squeezing mine. My hand is starting to hurt but right now, I wouldn’t release his hand for anything in the world. We both derive too much strength from this contact to stop before it becomes a necessity. I take my eyes off Marcus and settle my focus on the five bowls at the centre of the room and think about Marcus’ words. Which shortcoming of humanity do I believe is the main cause of conflicts?

“Those who blamed ignorance became the Erudite.”

Ruling out Erudite was the only part of my choice that was easy. Plus, ignorance isn’t the main cause of discord.

“Those who blamed duplicity created Candor.”

I have always lied too easily to fit in Candor and living by a policy of full disclosure means being confrontational.

“Those who blamed selfishness made Abnegation.”

I blame selfishness, I do. But I am not selfless enough. No matter how much I try to fit in, how I admire the values of Abnegation, adhering to them is difficult. Stifling. I long for more freedom.

“Those who blamed cowardice emerged as the Dauntless.”

I have always thought they were amazing. They protect us since they are tasked with keeping the peace, by force if necessary. It makes them brave, fearless and free. But are they really? Suddenly, I am not so sure of this. My envy of their perceived freedom blinded me a bit to some of their obvious flaws: they are the most violent Faction with Candor being a close second. But where Candor fights with words, Dauntless fights with physical violence. And that... Is not the kind of freedom I respect. Even if I cannot help the pang of envy every time I see them being so exuberant, I now wonder how much of their behaviour relies on being the toughest one around, with the physically weaker members being disrespected because of their lack of muscles. Or because their survival instinct is more developed than the others’.

“And those who blamed aggression formed Amity.”

Every time I see them, they seem kind, loving. They are free too. A different freedom from Dauntless and Candor. They are free to run in the fields, to play, to sing, free to live so close to this vast expanse of land right beyond the Fence. Amity is the only Faction that promotes art. It also plays a big part in helping others since they are responsible for feeding us all. Their goals are not so different from Abnegation’s, they want peace and they help people through farming. It is just that their day to day lives are less constrained.

“In our Factions, we find meaning, we find purpose, we find life. Apart from them, we would not survive.”

The silence that follows his words feels heavier than before, probably because it brings forth the worst fear of many right now: becoming Factionless. We need to choose the best Faction for us because if we do not pass Initiation, we won’t be accepted in any. I know how hard being a Factionless can be through my volunteering duties. I do not want to become one ever. Come to think of it, didn’t one of the Factionless I helped a few days ago tell me she was from Dauntless once? Something about being too old? Do some Factions throw out their members after a certain age? We obviously do not. Amity and Candor don’t either, I know that. Candor can’t keep their mouths shut so it would be known. But Erudite and Dauntless? I don’t remember having ever seen old people from there and those two Factions are not exactly known for their kindness.

Marcus continues, “Therefore this day marks a happy occasion: the day on which we receive our new Initiates, who will work with us toward a better society and a better world.”

A round of applause. Caleb and I don’t join: his fingers remain firmly clenched around mine. Even if he had let go, I would have stayed still, frozen in shock as I am by my last train thought. I don’t want to be thrown out of my Faction simply because I am too old. This is not an ideology I support. Does that mean I should avoid thinking too much about Erudite and Dauntless out of prudence? It would leave me with only Abnegation as a choice though and I... am not entirely satisfied with that option.

Marcus reads the first names. He will be reading them in reverse alphabetical order so my turn will come soon enough. I need to focus and make a decision. As James Tucker decides to become the first Faction transfer, proving that people can indeed decide to leave their families and start anew in a new Faction, I start reflecting on the meaning of the Factions’ symbols for the ceremony from right to left.

Glass for Candor.  Transparent but sharp. Any Candor will tell you that truth can hurt of something similar. More than that, their conviction that something is either true or false, without a margin of interpretation irks me.

Earth for Amity. For a rich and fulfilling life. Because they believe anything can come from a fertile soil.

Water for Erudite. Clear water represents clarity of knowledge or so I heard. It is ironic that at the end of the ceremony, their precious water won’t be transparent anymore.

Pale grey pebbles for Abnegation. Smooth, grey stones for the abstraction of self.

Lit coals for Dauntless. A strange choice all things considered. Fire can be unpredictable, difficult to control and destructive. It needs to be kept contained at all time and extinguished every time it starts to run free. If this is the material reflection of their faction, I am not so certain anymore the members of Dauntless are ever free. I don’t know if I want to become a flame after all.

“Caleb Prior,” says Marcus.

Caleb squeezes my hand one last time, and as he walks away, he casts a long look at me over his shoulder. I manage to muster what I hope is an encouraging smile for him before he begins to walk towards the podium. I watch him accept his knife from Marcus, cut his palm and choose Erudite. The room is suddenly filled by the sound of surprised mutter. Amidst the surprise, it occurs to me I was right earlier: he truly was hesitating.

“Excuse me,” says Marcus, but the crowd doesn’t hear him. He shouts, “Quiet, please!”

The room goes silent and Marcus calls my name. I start my way toward my choice, one small and hesitant step at a time. As I reach the base of the podium, I decide each of my next steps will equal one decision regarding my choice.

Step one, decision one. Not Erudite. Never Erudite.

Step two. I have never liked Candor.

Step three. Dauntless and Candor are too similar to each other. If I do not like Candor, how could I ever like living in Dauntless?

Step four. I am not selfless enough. I wish I were, but I long for more freedom, for more individuality.

Step five. I am not nice enough.

Stop. The bowls are within reach and I have eliminated all the Factions.

I take the knife Marcus offers me and take the final step towards the bowls. I chance a look over my shoulder in my mother’s direction. She directs a heartfelt tender smile at me and nods her head, like she knows what I am thinking and agrees. I am not suited to Abnegation. Especially not since even Caleb wasn’t Abnegation material in the end. She approves of my decision to transfer. But transfer where?

I hold the knife in my right hand and touch the blade to my palm. Gritting my teeth, I drag the blade down. It stings, but I barely notice. I hold both hands to my chest, and my next breath shudders on its way out.

I don’t think I could never see eye to eye with Dauntless’ violent ideals. Amity stands on the other end of that spectrum. It is known for encouraging a live and let live mindset. I could even be safe there: they most likely wouldn’t care at all about my Divergence. The only price for this would be to do my best to avoid conflict. I could do that rather easily, it’s not so different from what I have done until now.

I close my eyes to take another breath, deeper than the previous one, and let it out as slowly as I can.

They are quite free too. It could be nice to learn to be as liberal with my affection as them. Since Amity is in charge of the food and its distribution, I could even have occasions to see my parents and my brother again so I wouldn’t be abandoning them completely.

I can feel my blood starting to coat both of my hands. I am taking too long. I open my eyes and thrust my arm out to the right.

Who knows, maybe I will even come to enjoy it there.

**Author's Note:**

> There's a photoset for the story: [here](https://lysore-writes.tumblr.com/post/175038317115/a-different-form-of-freedom-on-ao3-tris-yearns) (it's hosted on Tumblr)


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